Let Me Hold You
by jouissance
Summary: Episode tag for The Radio Job. Sophie helps Nate deal with his father's death.


It felt like days before they were finally alone. In truth, it had only been 4 hours since the explosion that had left Nathan Ford without a father. Try as she may, Sophie still can't put the cacophony of events in any sort of order. She remembers fragments: Elliot yelling, the dull clang of debris hitting the pavement, Hardison's arm firmly around her waist, and Nate at the center of it all. She doesn't remember getting to him, only being there at his side and the feel of his hair running through her fingers. If she was the reason Hardison held his orange soda to the lump forming on his temple, the young man made no indication. She made a note to apologize to him later and to thank Elliot for getting them home, and Parker for ushering them out the door.

The sound of glass shattering snapped her back to the present. Once again, she materialized at Nate's side oblivious to the journey. He was a mess, physically and emotionally. Elliot had patched him up, but he still wore clothes covered in ash and blood. He still hadn't said a word. Sophie knew what shock looked like. She assured the others that they would be fine alone, that she would call if they weren't and she had never been more thankful to Parker then when blonde literally pushed the boys out the door. But as she knelt before Nate, staring into his dead eyes, she felt for a heartbeat that she wasn't enough.

_To hell with this_, she thought. If anyone could get inside Nate's head it was her and hovering at a distance wasn't going to cut it. "Nate. Look at me." She knelt in front of him, one hand on his knee the other cupping his cheek. His eyes met hers, but didn't see. "Look at me!" She slapped him, hard, and would have again if not for his hand stopping hers a breath from impact. "Nate?" The tremble in her voice betrayed her fear. She had seen him broken, but never quite like this. Would he hurt her? Could she stop him? Would she try? "I'm here," she whispered. They sat frozen like that for several minutes. Eyes locked, him holding her wrist so tightly his fingers were bound to leave marks.

Sophie moved first, because she always did, pushing herself up from his knee and into his lap. She wrapped her free hand around the fingers that held her and gently pried them free. Nate's eyes shot to their hands and he suddenly dropped her arm as if it were burning him. Sophie flexed her wrist, rubbing out the welts he had left. "I'm so sorry," Nate looked down at her hands, horror written on his face.

"It's fine, Nate." She shifted even closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's fine. I'm fine." He finally looked at her then, connected.

"I hurt you." He pulled her hands back between them to inspect her wrist.

"I slapped you." She softly kissed the cheek she had abused and returned her hands to the back of his head. When he didn't react, she moved her lips to his jaw, the side of his neck, his throat. His arms circled her waist. "We're even," she whispered just before her lips found his mouth.

Something in Nate snapped. He swore he actually heard split as she broke through his walls. He stood abruptly, sending Sophie tumbling off of him. She barely got her legs underneath her; they lessened her fall but couldn't stop her collision onto the coffee table. Spilt whiskey soaked into her shirt and hair. The smell of it filled her senses. Nate was on top of her, pulling at her ruined shirt until she was free of it. He was biting at her clavicle when she felt the fly of her pants ripped open. He pulled them off in one move, her panties along with them. Sophie finally managed to get her bearings. She slid off the table and shoved it roughly behind her. She reached for Nate's belt, pushing his jeans down just enough before he was once again on top of her, pinning her to the floor.

"I just… I just…" Nate was panting inches from her face. His dark eyes welled, but the tears refused to fall.

"It's okay. I'm here." She slid an arm under the bottom of his shirt, rubbing the tense muscles in his back. "I'm here. You won't hurt me. I won't break." She spoke slowly, holding his neck so that their foreheads were pressed together, making sure that he understood what she was saying. She knew what he needed even if he couldn't find the word. To feel: control, rage, grief, pain. Anything and everything.

"I need you," his voice was barely a whisper and if they hadn't been so close she wouldn't have heard it. Silent tears fell down Sophie's cheeks as he kissed her softly, running a hand up and down her naked body.

In answer, she kissed him back deeply, her tongue roughly exploring his mouth. He entered her quickly and fully and she couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips. Nate stilled instantly, ready to release her until she locked her legs around his thighs and her arms around his back holding him firmly inside of her. Sophie held him with every ounce of her strength and every inch of her flesh.

It was too rough, the pace too erratic. Sophie knew she wouldn't come, but it hardly mattered tonight. Hiss release was a primal sob muffled, only slightly, by her chest. Once Nate broke he shattered. His body convulsed with painful sobs while his fist beat the floor above Sophie's shoulder. She lowered her legs and rolled them over, sitting up so that she was leaning against the couch, and pulled Nate to her. He came willing, settling his head against her breast and clutching at whatever part of her his hands could find. She rocked him gently, caressing every part she could reach.

Her hands eventually quieted, along with his cries. He sat up slowly. Sophie loosened her grip enough to allow him to move. When he settled at her side, their hips firmly pressed together, she let her head fall to his shoulder and laced their fingers. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair as he lightly kissed the top of her head. Nate smiled at the warm taste of whiskey that was left lingering on his lips. His free hand delicately traced the marks he left on her body. Some were bruises that would vanish in a day; others were where the ash from his clothes had mixed with sweat and tears; none of them were anything that Sophie cared about.

"I told you: I'm here." She squeezed his hand as he brought hers to his lips, kissing each finger.

"You're a mess," he chuckled as he got off the floor and pulled her with him.

"That's why we work." Sophie said. She pressed herself to him and kissed him once more. Nate held her closely another moment, letting his head rest on her shoulder, letting her hold him, before they made their way upstairs to get cleaned up. Sophie could feel his walls going back up, defenses forming all around. His smile was bright, but his eyes radiated pain. He still wasn't okay, not even close, probably never would be. But he was better. For now, that was good enough for both of them.


End file.
